


they did no good

by FeatheryMinx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter
Genre: F/M, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Mildly Dubious Consent, Unhealthy Relationships, at the beginning mostly but it's like not super there i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatheryMinx/pseuds/FeatheryMinx
Summary: Pandora Parkinson and Caelum Lestrange... didn't expect this.
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Caelum Lestrange
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Het Swap Exchange 2020, Rigel Black Chronicles Appreciation





	they did no good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beelzebubble_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelzebubble_tea/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cataclysm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122846) by [kitsunerei88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunerei88/pseuds/kitsunerei88). 



> The beginning is kind of abrupt so for context, this happens after the Irish defect, after the scene in Cataclysm ch.6 where Pandora talks about alternatives to invading Ireland.

Pandora was standing outside her room when the Lestrange boy turned the corner. Upon seeing her, his face contorted into an ugly sneer.

“Shouldn’t you be… _entertaining_ our Lord?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t _you_ be torturing someone for him? If you paid any attention, Lestrange”—he pursed his lips just the slightest bit—“you’d know I already gave him my counsel.”

The sneer returned to his face. “And why, Parkinson, do you presume I would pay any attention to you? Just because he lavishes you with it doesn’t mean I have to.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, then said sweetly, “You’re just like your mother, aren’t you?” He stepped threateningly towards her, but she wasn’t bothered. “You try so hard to pretend you don’t care about me, but of course you do. You want his favor, and I have it, and you crave that, don’t you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “You can’t even deny it, Lestrange. I see both of you, watching me with those dark eyes of yours. Or did you think I didn’t notice you today?”

Something flashed through his eyes. He blinked it away and stepped even closer to her, bracing himself with one hand on the wall by her head. “You think I’m just like my mother?” His voice was low. When he next spoke, he did so slowly, words full of meaning. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”

At that, he moved faster than she could speak and kissed her forcefully. His teeth clacked with hers, at least until he shifted his head just so. It was no longer painful, just awkward.

For a few moments, she stood motionless as his lips moved against hers. She was frozen; in shock at first, and then in indecision. Voldemort wouldn’t like it, but… She wasn’t here to be his. Pandora Parkinson was independent, free of the boundaries society tried to impose on other women. If she wanted to be improper (and Merlin, did she), no one, not even Voldemort, could stop her.

Lestrange moved his hand off the wall, seemingly preparing to move away. Before he could stop kissing her, she grabbed his face with her hands and started kissing him back. His hands curled around her waist, and he continued kissing her.

It wasn’t the beautiful, chaste kisses of modern society, but neither was it the rushing, electric kisses from all the old stories. No, it was messy, lips going everywhere. It was painful, teeth biting down, the slightest hints of copper on her tongue. It was bruising, each of them kissing the other as forcefully as they could, almost as though this could replace the battles they fought. It was far from perfect, and it was exactly what she needed.

After a minute, Pandora pulled away. Lestrange tried to pull her back into another kiss, but she slipped out of his grasp. She opened the door to her room and walked in. Turning back to him, she said, “There’s a better place for this, don’t you think?”

Lestrange strode forward. Once he’d entered, Pandora hardly had a chance to close the door before he had her pushed up against it. His lips were on hers again, though slightly less frenzied than before. Her hands began running up and down his back. He took the invitation for what it was. As he rubbed his thumbs in circles across the swell of her breasts, she moaned lightly.

“You love this,” he said against her lips. “Don’t you, Pansy?”

She pushed him away. “Don’t call me that.”[1]

“Hmmm, but I thought that was your name.”

“Not anymore,” she snapped.

Caelum stepped back towards her, encircling her wrists with his hands and pinning them against the wall. “What,” he asked while kissing her aggressively, “would you have me call you?” His voice took on a derisive note even as he kissed up her neck. “Darling?” he whispered into her ear. He let go of one hand so he could snake his into her robes, onto her chest. “Sweetheart?”

She batted his hand away.. “My name, _Caelum_ , is Pandora. Use it.”

He laughed and moved into the armchair, pulling her down with him. “As you wish, my lady,” he said flippantly before kissing her again.

It may have been insincere, but it was enough for the time being. She settled herself on top of him and let the rest of the evening slip away.

* * *

They began meeting, not infrequently, but also not regularly. As much as Pandora didn’t _care_ for Caelum, she did enjoy their time together. And while she might leap at the chance to get rid of his mad bitch of a mother, he was more useful to her, and therefore she had to avoid provoking Voldemort’s suspicions.

The weeks passed. Pandora was gifted old jewelry. She always took it off before her time with Caelum.

The days passed. The barrier went up. Pandora ordered the torture of a man, and watched.

The hours passed. Pandora used her reputation to her advantage.[2] Voldemort commended her for it.

When they returned to the Manor after the attack on Snowdonia, the first thing Pandora did was retreat to her room and take a long shower. She may have gotten clean, but she didn’t want to sleep. After a slight moment of indecision, she pulled on her only pair of revealing robes (a gift from Voldemort, one she had no qualms about using) and Flooed directly into Caelum’s bedroom. He wasn’t there, so she settled herself onto his bed.

Caelum emerged from his bathroom shortly after her arrival. Upon seeing her, he cursed in Russian. “Pandora?”

“Hello, Caelum,” she said, rising to meet him.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” She pulled him down onto the bed, straddling him. He let her kiss him for a few moments, then turned his head away and broke the kiss.

“Shouldn’t you be with our Lord right now?”

“Caelum,” Pandora crooned, “are you jealous?”

He glared at her. “You know I’m not. But this isn’t supposed to be a regular thing.”

“Who said it’s becoming regular?”

“You’re here! It’s been three days, we both know you shouldn’t have come back so soon.”

“What, are you scared?”

“Pandora…” he said warningly.

“Relax, Caelum. No one saw me leave. I’m here because I want to be.” She kissed him again, and he flipped them onto the bed.

“Oh, Pandora,” he said with artificial sweetness as his hands traversed the skin exposed by her robes, “did you miss me?” She bit him in response. “I guess I’ll take that as a no.” Under his breath, he murmured, “But if we’re being violent today…”

He pinned her wrists above her head, holding them there with a bruising grip. She squirmed underneath him as he used his other hand to undo the tie of her robes.

Pandora hissed, “If you don’t let go of my hands so I can disrobe you I will _skin_ you.”

“We don’t need your hands for that,” he said. Caelum cast a spell and was suddenly unclothed. Pandora bucked up to try and take control, but his legs kept her bracketed in and his hand held her down. “None of that.” He leaned down to kiss her, and their hips rocked together.

“Caelum” she gasped after some time of him teasing her, “if you don’t—” He shifted against her and she moaned again. Pandora was too proud to beg, but he knew what she wanted. He gave it to her, hands pinned above her head all the while.

“Caelum!” she cried, tightening her legs around his. He tensed, and they came together. They collapsed bonelessly on his bed.

* * *

Pandora woke in the morning and looked around blearily. These weren’t her old rooms, nor were they hers from the Manor. Where…

Noticing the arm draped across her, she cursed. Next to her, Caelum awoke. “Why are you…”

Pandora cast _Tempus_. “I have to go, we have the meeting and I’m like this!” Quickly donning her robes, she Flooed back to her room. Pressed for time, she cast Scourgify on herself in lieu of a bath. Pandora changed into new robes, fixed her hair, and rushed out of her room only to have to return because she had forgotten to put on jewellery. She slipped on the first bracelets she found, then walked quickly towards the Manor’s main dining room.

“My Lord,” she greeted Voldemort, gracing him with a smile.

“Pandora. It is lovely to see you this morning after our victory.”

“Indeed.” She settled into her favorite armchair and watched the meeting proceed. Caelum snuck into the back of the room unnoticed a few minutes late.

As the meeting was wrapping up, Voldemort asked Pandora a question. She was in the middle of answering when suddenly he interrupted. “What is that?” he asked angrily.

“What is what?” He looked pointedly at her hands. She followed his gaze to see that as she had been gesturing, her bracelets had slipped, revealing faint bruises on her wrists.

This was a perfect opportunity for her to add to the power she had here, if she so chose. All she had to do was spin the truth. And yet…

“One of my overeager recruits, my lord. There is a reason DeLuca did not return with us yesterday.”

He looked at her consideringly. “A pity that he isn’t here for me to punish.” Pandora murmured her assent, then finished answering the question he’d initially asked. She deliberately didn’t look towards Caelum, though she could see him glaring at her from the corner of her eye.

Afterwards, Caelum ambushed her in her rooms. The moment Pandora saw him, she said, “You shouldn’t have left those bruises, Caelum. You’re lucky I lied for you.”

“ _I_ shouldn’t have left those bruises? It’s your responsibility to cover it up, you messed up this morning!”

“If you hadn’t kept me in your room—”

“I did nothing!”

“Exactly. You did nothing when you should have sent me away; you know better than to let me stay.”

“So do you! If you wouldn’t be able to leave, then you shouldn’t have come last night! You should have gone to Voldemort! You can _not_ blame this on me.”

Sighing, Pandora dropped onto her bed. “I can try, can’t I?”

“Did you know? Last night, before you came?”

“I knew I shouldn’t.”

“Then why did you?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Caelum spluttered indignantly, and she sighed. “It won’t happen again.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then climbed into her bed behind her. His arm wrapped around her waist, his lips dropping to her neck.

“Caelum, what—”

With his free hand, he conjured a mirror and pressed it into her hands. He guided it up so she could see him, then said, “Watch.”

Letting go of her hands, Caelum pressed his wand against the rapidly darkening bruise on her neck. He whispered something too softly for Pandora to hear, and it faded slowly. After a few seconds, it disappeared. Caelum put his wand away.

“I can’t heal your wrist, he’s already seen it. But next time,” he said as his fingers stroked Pandora’s now unblemished skin, “you stay long enough for me to take care of it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

* * *

* * *

A few weeks after Snowdonia, Aldon received a patronus from Swallow. Before he could listen to it, another patronus arrived, this one from Vulture. When he retreated to his office and listened to them, he winced, then looked contemplatively at the small bottle of gin his father had kept in the drawer.

Swallow reported that she had gained the trust of “Stranger”, and would be able to report back information she may receive through him.

Vulture reported that he had gained the trust of Swallow, and would be able to report on information she, as Voldemort’s most favored, would have access to.

Aldon would have hated the implications of those messages as it was. The fact that they had gone to each other just made it even worse.

He thought wryly to himself, ‘At least it wasn’t Draco dealing with _these_ sensitive messages.’

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Pandora doesn't want Caelum calling her 'Pansy' because that name reminds her of when she was still a helpless girl subject to the whims of Society. _Pansy_ doesn't want Caelum calling her 'Pansy' because she hates this, and if he calls her 'Pandora' she can try to tell herself that this wasn't her in the future.  
> [2]For some reason, people still don't expect _"Pansy Parkinson"_ to be as ruthless as Pandora is. Pandora uses that to her advantage.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! I did my best to stay in character for them.
> 
> I also hope you uh... didn't *hate* the faux-smut that was there for like, a paragraph. I was too chicken to commit to doing it so you get faux instead of the real deal.


End file.
